


The Flowerfrick Collection

by Kazefiend



Category: Undertale (Video Game), Undertale - Underfell - Flowerfell, Undertale AU - Fandom
Genre: Biting, Blood, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Bodied Frisk, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Some sweet SOUL touching, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6522091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazefiend/pseuds/Kazefiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my NSFW works for the Flowerfell AU.</p>
<p>Flowerfell AU Created by underfart-snas.tumblr.com / siviosanei.tumblr.com<br/>Flowerfell fic 'Overgrowth' by SociopathicArchangel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Favour.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I am doing. Enjoy!

Curtains drawn, door firmly locked. Not that they were worried, time hung in the early hours of the morning before anyone in their right mind would be awake. Snowdin was quiet, well mostly, there were the sounds of wind and small pellets of snow hitting the window.  
They weren’t even certain Papyrus was home, he had probably left for a patrol ages ago. More than likely he never came home from his patrols at all.

Frisk bit their lip as Sans ran his tongue slowly around their navel on his way to his destination. Making sure to not be too hasty; he had to appreciate every inch of their luxuriously soft flower-freckled skin. Frisk was of lithe build but had just enough give in the right places, their hips and thighs were deliciously soft.

“May I?” Sans flashed Frisk a toothy grin as his mouth got closer to their hip.

“Umm-hmmn..” Frisk nodded as they grabbed a handful of the bedsheet in anticipation.

Getting the consent he needed he clamped his sharpened teeth on their hip, applying light pressure. Not breaking the skin but teetering on the edge of doing so. Frisk gasped as he started rolling his warm tongue over the bite; soothing it. Once Sans was satisfied, he sat upright causing Frisk to utter a confused ‘huh’.

“Patience sweetheart,” he chuckled as he removed his scarf and tucked the SAVE star safely under his sweater, “I ain’t going to leave you high and dry.”

Leaning back down on the bed he surveyed his options. He opted to lift Frisk slightly by lifting their legs onto his shoulders. They felt their whole body shift which took them by surprise. Frisk could feel his warm between their thighs. Before drawing closer Sans blew a warm puff of air causing Frisk to squeak and their face to shift to a deep crimson.

“S-So… mean..” They breathlessly scolded and knocked Sans on the skull with their free hand.

While they were caught off guard Sans ran his tongue slowly across their opening and stopped at their clit. Giving it one broad stroke before going to his tried and true method of running his tongue in slow figure-eights around it. Frisk seemed to respond best to that. Their breathing became uneven and their legs tightened around his head as he picked up the pace. Round and round, faster and faster until Frisk’s mind began to whirr and buzz. Their grasp on the sheets loosened. 

Steady moans poured from Frisk’s mouth and interrupted them every time they tried to cry out his name. Deciding it was time to get to the main event before Frisk was completely spent (as they had limited stamina), Sans turned his attention to their neglected honey pot. Throughout the warm up it had become slick with his saliva and their own needy wetness. He pressed his unusually warm tongue against the opening, not going too far in just yet. 

Frisk’s breath hitched in their throat, wordlessly begging to not be teased any longer, they needed him now. Sans generously obliged. They suddenly found themselves full, which would be difficult if not impossible with a human tongue. Oh the wonders magic was capable of!  
The sudden shock of the wriggling and curing motion against their velvet walls caused Frisk to buck their hips; unfortunately hitting Sans in the face. Before Frisk could attempt to apologize, Sans’ hands had started to massage their hips causing them to be thrown into a deeper level of pleasure.

The whirling and twisting seemed to hit all the right spots, Frisk’s cries became more fervent, breath uneven, cheeks fully flushed and sweaty. Sans was focused and very good at this. Their legs began to relax, the inability to hold their strength as they grew closer and closer was a telltale sign that he had limited time before Frisk would become exhausted. The pace hastened and Frisk could feel it welling up in their very core; it would be soon now.

And soon it was. A sudden loud cry and a burst of strength as Frisk clamped their legs tightly around Sans’ head, their back arching and hands trembling. It took a couple moments for the waves of their orgasm to subside and for Frisk to release Sans. He let Frisk gently down, grinning.

“Satisfied?” Sans asked, his chin slightly glistening, breathing rocky.

Frisk said nothing, their voice had long since left them along with all their energy. They could only manage a weak nod. Their body drenched in sweat and still incredibly sensitive.

After a few minutes, and a courtesy glass of water Frisk spoke, “I love you.”


	2. Favour Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a request after the first piece was published. I obliged of course.

Sans and Frisk had spent most of their time lounging on the sofa in the living room.   
It was one of those lazy days where no one really felt like doing anything that required too much effort. 

Sans was watching the television, it had some Underground News and Mettaton’s various broadcasts. Frisk simply listened. Sans had taken to describing anything interesting such changes in setting and the like to Frisk.

Frisk pulled on the sleeve of the large red sweater that they had ‘borrowed’. They liked the feel of it; plush and cozy to the point that it didn’t matter that it was very ill-fitting. Frisk had done the laundry and stolen it right after it dried. Sans didn’t really seem to mind and took it as an opportunity to wear his fluffy coat once again. Whatever made his Sweetheart happy made him happy.

Frisk yawned and stretched their arms, their spine had popped several times which made Sans look away and blush. They giggled, feeling him shift uncomfortably and looped their arm around his.

“Love you,” Frisk sighed happily and nuzzled into Sans’ shoulder.

“Heh, love you too Sweetheart,” he replied and placed his hand on their thigh.

Moments passed and Sans had gotten back into whatever was on the t.v. Frisk wasn’t quite sure what was going on anymore. By the sounds of it it was a news report about the Royal Guard. Quite boring. Frisk bit their lip, it was now or never. They exhaled and sat up, leaning in to kiss Sans on the cheek as they swung their leg over until they were face to face straddling him, hands planted firmly on his shoulders. “Hey there…” Frisk cooed as they planted a few kisses on his forehead.

Sans blinked, slightly flustered that they were being so forward. The fluster turned into a mischievous smirk, “Sugar, if you were feelin’ ‘frisky’ you could’ve just asked,” he leaned in, gently kissing Frisk’s soft lips. At first the kisses were sweet soft pecks that grew into greedier hungrier kisses. Sans brought his hand to Frisk’s chin and gently parted their lips with his thumb, allowing his tongue free entry. Frisk moaned softly as Sans’ tongue explored their mouth, they had to remain focused but the sensation was too amazing to ignore. They felt Sans’ hand leave their chin and slip under the sweater, cupping their breast, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Aaaahhhh~ S-Sans…I..” Frisk broke the kiss and gasped for air. The sensation of being fondled was dizzying. Taking a few deep breaths Frisk steadied themselves enough to be able to reach under Sans’ exposed ribcage and into his chest. With a gentle touch they lightly caressed the pale SOUL that rested there. Their fingers careful to touch it just the right way.

Sans’ hand immediately fell from Frisk’s breast, “F-Fuck…” he gasped. He let them continue until the pleasure became entirely too much to bear, he sat up straight and slid Frisk down slightly so he was able to reach the button of his pants. “We have time before Pap gets home.”

Frisk could feel the warmth materialize as he undid his pants, his hands holding their hips tightly, “Sans wait!”

“Something wrong babe?” he asked and loosened his grip; immediate concern in his voice.

Frisk grinned and shook their head, “No, just a better idea,” they said in a sing-songy voice, “returning a favor.”

Sans watched curiously as Frisk got up off the couch and knelt before him, spreading his legs and crawling ever closer. They felt their way to where they needed to be, placing a hand on his impressive member, tracing up and down once with their fingertips. Using their free hand Frisk pulled some of their hair out of their face and lowered their mouth to the head. Once they were sure they were on target Frisk rolled their tongue over the head slowly in an attempt to be as sexy as possible. The heat of his magic took a second to get used to but eventually Frisk took a breath and took as much of his length as they could in their mouth.

Sans leaned back on the sofa as Frisk went to work, starting off slow making sure they had enough lubrication to start using their hands in tandem with their mouth to compensate for being unable to deepthroat. Frisk had attempted, attempted to take more of Sans’ penis in their mouth but had to stop before their gag reflex got the better of them. Although they couldn’t see, Sans didn’t seem too upset, one hand behind his head the other playing in Frisk’s hair, keeping it out of their face for them as their other hand now rested on his femur. “F-Frisk… oh fuck…” Sans moaned, Frisk continued to bob their head up and down, pace increasing. The sounds he was making pleased them.

Frisk could hear that Sans was getting close to climax. His low grunts and moans were more frequent and he now was gripping a large handful of soft brown hair. For the finale, they decided to ditch their hands entirely and focus on taking as much of him inside their mouth as they could manage. Making sure on their way up to not neglect any part of him with their tongue. Sans quickly leaned in, both hands now on Frisk’s head pushing them down. Frisk sharply inhaled through their nose in surprise, the warm stream of his seed spilled into their throat. It seemed endless but the desire for more air got the better of Frisk. Sans noticing that they were struggling to come up released his grasp on their head.

Frisk collapsed into him, still gasping, but grinning. The remnants of his orgasm had spilled on their face and the front of the ‘borrowed’ sweater. It would need to be washed again.

Sans leaned back once again into the sofa to give Frisk room to rest their head on his lap, absently he twirled a lock of their hair around his finger. He would certainly have to do them a favor more often.


	3. After the Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck in the bathroom *shrug*

The warm streams of water from the showerhead felt wonderful on Frisk’s cold skin, a delighted sigh escaped their lips. They had spent most of the day outside with Sans. Papyrus had forced him to actually do one of his various jobs and had allowed ‘the Frisk human’ to hang around. Making sure to safely keep Undyne and any patrollers not from the immediate Snowdin area away from Frisk. Pap had a better heart than he let on. Frisk pondered if it was Mettaton’s positive influence and let out a giggle.

“Are ya alright sweetheart?” Sans looked up from his phone. He had been browsing the undernet while Frisk showered. Staying close just in case they needed help finding something. He caught a glimpse of Frisk’s slender form through the frosted glass of the shower door and his face reddened. Shifting uncomfortably from his position of leaning on the counter to stand up a little straighter.

“Mhm,” Frisk giggled again, “Just thought of something funny,” they collected their hair together with one hand and felt around for the bottle of shampoo with the other.

The bathroom was a sterile white tile, one could tell that two males had lived here from the state of it. Not very decorated, stuff tended to be everywhere. Mostly Sans’ stuff mind you. A large counter with a single sink, countertop tiled the same as the floor and walls. One impossibly large standing shower. Otherwise nothing of interest. Sans had attempted to liven up the place with a decorative floral patterned bath mat, Frisk had complained once that the floor could be quite chilly in the morning.

Frisk gently massaged a strange candy scented shampoo into their scalp, being ever so careful to not tug at a blossom. That pain wasn’t something they wanted to experience. Frisk started to hum, they had forgotten Sans was still in the room.

Sans looked puzzled for a moment, attempting to remember the oh so familiar tune. Where had he heard that before? Closing his eyesockets he imagined… an umbrella? “Oh!” He said aloud, “the statue?”

Frisk stopped humming abruptly, happy Sans couldn’t see their face redden, “I-I forgot you were there,” they giggled nervously as they rinsed the shampoo out of their hair.

“Aww, sweetheart is was cute,” he reassured them, silently cursing that he didn’t think to record it when he had the chance.

After a few more minutes Sans heard the squeak of the taps and the shower stop.

“Can I get a towel?” Frisk asked, they opened the shower door a crack and slipped an arm out.

“One sec,” Sans set his phone on the counter and grabbed a black bath towel from a nearby rack. He placed it on Frisk’s waiting arm, catching another small glimpse of their body.

“Thank you!” Their arm shot back into the shower and the door closed once again. 

After a couple moments the door slid open again. Towel tightly hugging Frisk’s damp body. Droplets of water on their flowers like a garden after a morning rain. They moved slowly, arms extended, feeling their way to the counter. “Sans?” Frisk called out, “Are you still here?” They hadn’t heard him move or speak since they got out of the shower.

Sans stood a few steps behind them, red eyes fixated on the droplets of water sliding down Frisk’s soft thighs. The tight towel complimented their waifish figure so beautifully, “U-Uh yeah, I’m here sweetheart.”

Frisk sighed and patted around on the counter, “can you help me brush my hair?” They turned around to smile in the direction they heard his voice, “I can’t find my hairbrush,” they leaned against the counter. A mischievous smile crept across their face. Sans noticed that the brush was very much in a reachable distance for them.

Sans grinned, quickly closing the distance with a few strides. Pinning Frisk between him and the counter. “Sweetheart, I can’t help myself with you lookin’ at me like that.” He leaned in and ran his tongue across their collarbone. 

They softly gasped at the sensation, “Sans…it’s been a long day,” voice sweet and sultry. Frisk hoisted themselves up so they were now sitting on the counter, legs dangling off, hands now firmly on Sans’ shoulders drawing him closer.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, “hard to stay focused.” Sans pulled on the towel and it came undone, revealing pale flower-freckled skin. His hands, firmly resting on their thighs, spreading their legs easily.

“Saaannss…” Frisk leaned into him as two of his skeletal fingers slipped into their entrance, they hadn’t even noticed his hands glide down there. 

Sans rested his head on their shoulder as his skilled hands went to work. Starting out slow, his thumb gently massaging them. Sans knew he found the right rhythm when Frisk began to grind their hips into his hand. “This feel okay?” He asked with a breathy whisper directly into their ear.

They could only reply with a soft cry, the grip on his sweater tightened. Sans hastened the pace and went deeper, Frisk’s toes curled and their back straightened. He took advantage of their open mouth to pull them into a kiss, his free hand cradling their cheek. Frisk moaned into his mouth as he slipped in his tongue to meet theirs.

Having decided they were sufficiently warmed up Sans removed his fingers which caused Frisk to mewl needily. He lewdly stuck the two fingers in his mouth, Frisk couldn’t see but they could hear his tongue roll around the wet fingers. Their face blushed a deep red.  
“It’s an acquired taste,” Sans grinned, “honey from the flower.”

Frisk gasped and bit their lip, still breathing heavily, still needing more. They were pleased to feel Sans pull back slightly, the sound of rustling fabric and of a button being undone. 

The warmth drawing closer until it pressed against their opening, he teased them for a moment, a chuckle reverberating through his bones when Frisk whined.

“Ready sweethea-” he wasn’t able to finish his question before Frisk impatiently swung their legs around him in an attempt to pull him inside, the attempt was a success. They found themselves nearly filled, he had to do the rest of the work. They needed him now. No waiting. “O-Okay!” He blinked a couple times, obviously surprised. 

Left eye blazing with red magic, he grabbed onto their hips and thrust himself as far as he could. Frisk couldn’t take his entire length, but close enough. He started to steadily move, not too hard of a pace but enough to get Frisk moaning.

Frisk rested their head against his sternum, grasping at his shoulders, “h-haaa-harder~” they begged, “pleeeaasseee.”

“Fuck,” his breathing becoming uneven as his thrusts got faster, “Sweetheart who f-fucks you the best?” Sans asked, speed increasing yet again, hands grasping hard at their soft hips.

“You…you do” Frisk moaned even louder than before.

“Say-say my name,” the sound of their moans was music to him.

“S-Sans… you only you,” they bit down on their lip. They could feel a tightness in their core, “I…ahh….faster pleaaasseee.” Frisk’s heart pounded loud in their head, ears ringing.

With each brisk thrust Frisk screamed his name into his sweater, they were so close. Any minute now. 

Sans prepared himself, his pace was partly to make sure he finished soon after they did, as to not wear them out too much. He ran his tongue over his teeth and moved closer to their bare shoulder. The signal was Frisk’s final achy cry, so loud he swore it shook the house. He bit down hard, breaking skin as he spilled his warmth into them. Frisk’s legs clamped tightly around him so Sans couldn’t escape even if he wanted to. Not like it mattered much. Incompatible reproduction.

They both rode out their aftershocks, slowly grinding their hips into each other. He held Frisk around their waist and licked the blood from their shoulder. That one would probably leave a mark for a while. Magic dissipating leaving Frisk empty, the remainder of his magical seed streaming down their legs onto the floor.

“You’ll have to shower again sweetheart,” he chuckled, tangling his fingers in their now dried hair, “sure know how to work up a sweat.”

“Worth it,” Frisk sighed and nuzzled into his scarf. They were satisfied.


	4. Good Morning

Frisk locked their arms around Sans’ neck, pulling their bodies impossibly close, “Heeey…”

“Mornin’ Sweetheart,” Sans voice a low sleepy growl, barely awake. Soft light filtered through the dark curtains, “I don’t quite feel like gettin’ outta bed yet.”

Frisk let out a soft yawn, “what time is it?” They pressed a few quick pecks on his jawbone, their fingers gently circling one of his vertebrae through his sweater.

Sans stiffened up, face rapidly turning red with each soft touch. A toothy grin crept across his face, “Not sure,” he whispered, “but you know me, I can be an ‘early riser’.” Skeletal fingers now tangled in their hair, his other hand grabbing Frisk’s soft thigh. Sans swung their leg around his hip and gave their ass a squeeze.

Frisk quietly giggled, “that was terrible.”

Sans chuckled, vibrant red tongue snaking out his mouth. Gently he moved Frisk’s head to get access to the hollow of their throat, giving it a tantalizingly slow lick.

“Aaahh,” Frisk gasped at the wet and warm sensation, rolling their hips into him. Was it for revenge or more stimulation? Frisk was not sure. The things he did always electrified their senses.

Sans exhaled, squeezing them harder, “K-keep doing that.”

Frisk delightfully obliged, slowly rolling their hips into him in a steady rhythm. Light sighs escaping their mouth every time they were able to grind into a part of his body.

Sans removed his hand from Frisk’s backside to tug at his shorts, pulling them down just enough to be comfortable. He pulled up the long nightshirt Frisk was wearing. With the position of their legs, the underwear would be a problem. In frustration, he decided to simply tear one side and pull them down the other leg. Frisk had more pairs, it would be fine.

Frisk grumbled at the sound of tearing fabric. “I-I would have moved…” they sighed, mourning the loss of a very comfortable pair of panties.

Sans’ magic sparked to life, red length now pressing against Frisk’s wet folds. “Ready?” he breathed.

“Mmhmm,” they replied, holding onto him tightly as he adjusted his position to enter them smoothly. Warmth filling them comfortably. After all this time they had gotten used to the size and temperature.

“D-Do the thing again….” Sans whispered into their ear, hot breath causing Frisk to flush.

Frisk thought for a second before realizing what he had meant. He hadn’t moved at all since entering them, his hand now back on their asscheek. They resumed slowly rolling their hips, the drag of their inner walls on his member felt heavenly. Sans shifted his position slightly and with the next roll Frisk let out a cry, he had found the perfect spot. Hands now gripping his back, they rolled into him with more earnest. Increasing in speed, pleasure mounting, a bead of drool trickling from the corner their mouth.

Sans licked the drool from Frisk’s chin and moved to kiss them, starting with soft nibbles of their bottom lip and moving to harder bites before Frisk let him in. Tongue tangling with theirs, after a few moments, to Sans’ surprise Frisk started to hungrily suck on his tongue. The sensation and Frisk’s now fierce bucking causing him to see stars.

Frisk released his tongue to take a breath, cries now pouring from their mouth. Sans had done very little movement besides shifting his position a few times to keep himself on target, Frisk had done all the work and was soon rewarded with climax. Spine arching, muscles clamping around him and a long drawn out moan.

Frisk attempted to remove their leg from his hip but was met with resistance, “hmmn?”

“C-Can I finish….” Sans whimpered, in all their zeal they had neglected to notice they had brought Sans just to the edge.

Frisk nodded, while exhausted they wouldn’t object to a little more love.

While still very much inside them Sans rolled Frisk over onto their back. Being careful not to crush them with his large body by leaning on his arms, still maintaining the sensual closeness they shared from moments ago. Both slender legs now around his waist.

He began thrusting, not taking care to start slow. Frisk screamed his name. Their previous sensitivity not subsiding, only building driving them absolutely wild.

It took only a few minutes before Sans gave them one last strong thrust, his release barely contained by Frisk’s body, the molten looking seed seeping around his length. Strings of profanities and pet names running out of his mouth, rolling off of them and onto his side before he could accidentally crush his tiny girlfriend. Magic fading away, the only evidence of what had transpired being the fluid steadily leaking out of Frisk.

“Now I really don’t wanna get up,” Sans chuckled, drawing Frisk into a sweaty embrace.


	5. Prelude to Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this my idea for the conception.
> 
> Have fun!

Before they had gone blind, they never gotten a good look at him.  Frisk had memorized his face, his smile, his eyes.  It kept them going.  

Earlier that evening they had been at a fancy soiree held by some foreign dignitaries, the entirety of the Dreemurr family were of course invited.  It had been a few months since diplomatic relations had begun between monsters and humans.  Frisk’s marriage and adoption had been a great step towards showing both peoples that common ground could be reached.  The evening dragged on, Sans wasn’t one for too much smalltalk and Frisk was entirely too polite to divert the conversation when it became awkward.  It always did, humans were too curious and some had absolutely no filter.

Here they were.  Finally alone.  

Their room still had boxes of unpacked things.  Most were new things, the two of them didn’t have much.  Sans kept a couple things from his house in Snowdin, mostly clothing.  Any furniture he owned was left behind and replaced with new more modern pieces.

A long sleeved black dress lay on the floor, soon accompanied by a pair of sheer tights, and then lacy black underwear.  Frisk straddled their skeleton husband. The only article of clothing still on their body was a black bra, even that however, would join the pile.  Arms behind their back fiddling with the clasp, why on earth were bras so hard to remove?  Finally tossing it to the side Frisk breathed a happy sigh.  The buttercups had wilted and fallen from Frisk’s skin, leaving it smooth.  Unblemished like it had never been disrupted.

Sans flashed Frisk a lopsided grin, very much enjoying the show.  Right hand moving to grip their hip, left hand fondled one of their petite breasts.  The gentle action caused Frisk’s shoulders to relax and soft moans to pour out of their mouth, eyes closed, a slow roll of their hips into bone.  Sans always crumbled Frisk’s self-control and resolve.  Even before they could see his smile, now it was just easier to turn them into putty.

Catching their breath, slender fingers moved to undo the delta rune embossed golden buttons of his dress shirt.  He looked so goddamn handsome in black.  Seeing him dressed up earlier that day had fanned the flames of their already unbearable desire.  Keeping their hands to themselves was the hardest part of the party.  

With each button more of Sans milky white ribcage was revealed, his hand removed from Frisk’s breast, both now tightly gripping their hips.  Vermilion eyes closely watching his wife’s every little move with eagerness.  

After the last button, Frisk pushed aside the shirt.  Ribs exposed, illuminated slightly by the pale SOUL that rested behind them.  Repositioning, Frisk leaned forward and placed a kiss on Sans’ sternum, his bones so pleasantly warm.  A low groan rumbled through him, cheekbones flushing with an unnatural blush.  
A louder moan, tongue materializing and slipping through his teeth as Frisk’s tongue slipped between his ribs, teasing the empty space.  Running across the ribs themselves, curling around as much as it could.  The wet kisses to bone continued until they reached his clavicle, nuzzling into his shoulder, hands finding their way to his cervical vertebrae.  Tantalizingly slowly circling the protrusions of his vertebrae, kisses now pressed against his teeth.

A sharp buck of his hips made Frisk gasp, Sans seizing his moment slipped his tongue into their mouth, nibbling their lip with hungry kisses.

“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed into their ear after breaking the kiss.  Frisk’s face flushed, his low whispers still drove them wild, “fucking beautiful and mine.”

Unable to take it any longer Frisk fiddled with Sans’ belt.  Undoing the gold buckle and pulling the zipper of his pants down as quickly as their hands would let them to allow space for his magic to spring to life.  Right socket darkening, flame igniting in the left.  Sans’ hands still gripping Frisk’s hips tightly as they lifted themself up, one hand underneath them gripping his shaft, giving it a few slow strokes and teasing the head.

Frisk mused at the warmth and brilliant glow, somehow it felt lubricated despite not leaving anything behind.  Not that Frisk needed any extra lubrication, Sans’ jeans sported a slightly damp spot where Frisk had been sitting.  They needed no warm up.  

Slowly they lowered onto him, the sensation drew groans out of the both of them.  Frisk desperately trying to catch their breath, hands bracing against his ribcage for leverage they began to move.  Slow rolls of their hips, Sans doing his best to match their slow start up speed.  Frisk didn’t ride on top often, their motions slightly clumsy as they tried to focus, breath hitching as with Sans’ assistance the speed increased.  Retaining his rough grip he began to lift them by their hips.

After a while, Frisk could feel their legs going numb.  All their own movement stopped but it didn’t matter,  Sans was bucking into them from below with wild abandon.  Harder and faster than Frisk was ready for.

“IloveyouIloveyouIloveyoupleaseyes….” they could barely speak, words running together into unintelligible rambling.  A heat growing at their core, soft glow of Sans’ unnatural member could be seen through their skin.

Sans composure was fading, the amazing sounds Frisk made. Suddenly a loud moan.  He must have hit the right spot.  Shifting their hips until he heard it again, and again.

They fell against him, taking in the unbelievable pleasure that made them see stars.  They wanted more, they needed more.  Slipping a hand under his ribcage Frisk plucked his SOUL from it’s resting place then finding the strength to sit back up.  Warmer than his magic for sure, the pale upside down heart was a familiar feeling in their hands.

Sans shuddered at his SOUL being handled, each gentle caress sent shivers into the very core of his being.  He had to return the favor, taking a hand and pressing it to their chest he beckoned Frisk’s SOUL.  A brilliant red.  The very essence of determination.  

Frisk gasped, eyes wide.  It was a pleasurable pain to have one’s SOUL summoned.

Frisk drew their souls together, a spark of electricity through the both of them made movement stop.  The very feeling of their very beings being connected caused Frisk to tremble, biting their bottom lip and grinding against Sans.  They needed him to move again, they were getting so close.

Roughly thrusting into them the wet sounds of their union and the delicate hum of SOUL magic filled the room.  Frisk couldn’t articulate words other than Sans’ name, letting go of his ribs and leaning back, sloppily trying to push back into him.  They were so close, the tightly winding coil would snap soon.  Frisk loved him so much.

Release was soon ripped from them, Frisk would have fallen backward if not for Sans grabbing their arm.  A rush of their wetness on his bones,  loud cries that he was sure the neighborhood could hear.  Frisk was so beautifully undone, hair drenched with sweat, whatever makeup they had on from the party completely ruined.

In a moment of lucidity, Sans noticed their still connected SOULs, much closer than they should have been, “f-ffuck,” hastily grabbing his own soul, it was so entwined with Frisk that disconnecting them was met with some difficulty.  He managed it and shoved the pale heart back behind his ribcage.  Now it was safe to finish.

Frisk was too busy riding out their aftershocks to notice their SOUL returning to them.  New vigor bouncing on him until he started again, so fast Frisk could feel another climax approaching.  It felt so good it almost ached.

Low growls and profanity, he slammed Frisk into him, keeping them there to take all of his magic inside them, hearing them cry with another powerful orgasm.  Spilling out around his length, “fuck….you are so fucking  amazing… Sweet..Sweetheart.”

Unable to hold themself up any longer, Frisk crashed down onto Sans.  Exhausted but not as much as when they were cursed.  Hand reaching for their chest, swearing they could still feel a tingle of his magic on their SOUL.

The feeling of his magic dissipating and his fingers entwining in their hair was heaven.

They both needed a shower after this, perhaps later.


	6. Flowerless

Shafts of moonlight and streetlight filtered into their bedroom through dark curtains.  The window open just a crack to melt away the stuffiness of the summer day with cool night breezes.  Boxes barely unpacked, the furniture still packed away and unassembled.  Their bed simply just a mattress on a box spring.  Sans had reassured Toriel he would get to it eventually, his first priority was taking care of Frisk.  In the days following the flowers wilting off their body they had been weak.  Despite no visible marks the curse did a toll on their health, often spending the day in bed catching up on reading or much needed sleep.  However, it was hopeful, they were getting stronger each day.

  
How did one settle into a normal life after an adventure?  When the future was uncertain due to the looming threat of permanent failure and death.  The future was still uncertain, but now in a domestic sense.  Would they have spaghetti or fast food tomorrow for dinner?  Who would do the laundry?  What were they going to do now?  This very well could be their happily ever after.  There didn’t seem to be any more in the cards, a simple life.  Frisk was due to start duties as ambassador as soon as they felt strong enough to.  Sans would figure something out.

Frisk assured him that they felt perfectly fine today.  Urging him on with eager kisses, it had been a while since they’d made love or really touched each other.  Buttons of their flannel pajama top undone opening their chest to the cool air, underwear around their ankle.  Frisk splayed beneath him, the expanse of their skin his playground.  Fingers running across familiar scars of bite marks.  Sans had claimed their hips and thighs quite a bit.  He looped one arm underneath their shoulder, resting his head on the other.  Sharp teeth scraping at their skin as his free hand found it’s way between their legs, spreading them apart.

“Don’t hold back,” Frisk panted as they felt his fingers tease their folds.  They gripped their husband’s shoulders tightly, “I can take more I promise.”

“sweetheart,” his warm breath on their neck, tongue slipping between his teeth, sliding in a circular motion on their shoulder, “just tell me when you can’t take it.”  

The licking ceased and they knew that meant an incoming bite and braced for it.  Sure enough, it soon followed.  It wasn’t too hard, pinpricks that were just enough to break skin.  Otherworldly tongue soothing the pain immediately after.  He oddly enjoyed the sweet taste of iron.  

He grew tired of teasing them, his fingers had became slick with their wetness.  Perfect.  Two skeletal fingers pushed passed their opening, warm and wet, he curled them upwards before removing them and repeating the process.  Frisk’s grip on his shoulders tightened, his name slipping from their mouth between short breathy moans.  Picking up the pace, roughly fucking his pretty wife with his fingers, nipping over and over at their neck.  Thumb poised over their clit, it wasn’t time yet to add that layer of pleasure.  Sans held them tighter to his chest, the cool metal of the SAVE star pressed against their skin caused a shiver.

“M-mn- ha…” every time Frisk attempted to speak Sans responded by shoving his fingers deeper inside, hitting spots inside them that made their vision go white around the edges.  “M-More plea-please,” Frisk begged, rolling their hips into his hand.

He chuckled into their shoulder, thumb now becoming active.  Circling their sensitive clit while fingers thrust in and out.  Moans becoming quicker paced and breathing ragged.  Sounds of wetness, they were so close to orgasm.  Only a little longer now, screams of his name, legs squirming in an attempt to find purchase on anything.  Something to ground them through the building ferocity in their core, the white hot arousal.  

Sans pulled his head back to look at their face.  Sweat on their brow, eyes shut tight and mouth slightly open.  Open enough for him to slide his tongue right in to meet theirs.  Frisk gasped in surprise but took to swirling their tongue around his.  He swallowed every moan, every gasp and groan of his name.  Feeling them tighten around his fingers, a rush of wetness and all the tension leaving their body.  Sans released them, sitting up to look at his work.

Frisk could hardly catch their breath, chest heaving wildly as they came down from their release.  They felt their entire body be surrounded by warmth, his magic.  They looked at him wide eyed and confused as they were lifted and set on their knees, face down on the bed and ass in the air facing him.  He didn’t use his magic on them often, but he needed them re-positioned quickly.  Sans had to take care of his glowing arousal, the deep need to take Frisk and make them his over and over made his bones ache, his SOUL ache.

The rasp of his zipper, room filled with a red glow from both his member and his blazing magic eye.  “tell me to stop when you’re done,” Sans’ voice low and serious.  

Frisk nodded and gripped the sheets tightly, the feeling of his massive cock sliding between their still very sensitive folds and across their opening was heavenly.  The head pushing into them, it was so warm.  Almost uncomfortably hot but, nothing they weren’t used to by now.  The temperature and the size were an acquired taste.  Painfully slowly he entered them, there was no way they could fit him to the hilt but even then he filled them completely.  Pulling himself almost all the way out before thrusting back into them harder.  Long hard motions, his hands held their petite hips tightly.  Soft bruises blooming on their skin from the pressure of his fingertips.

They were brought to their second orgasm quickly, the first had not faded when he started penetrating them.  They screamed into the soft decorative pillows of their bed.  Everything about this was perfect.  The angle he was slamming into them, his curses and grunts, the fact they were free.  No danger of suddenly dying from the perils of the underground.  Frisk could enjoy the man they loved, and enjoy him they were.  Bouncing along with his thrusts they turned their head.  Out of the corner of their eye they could see his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth lewdly, red drool collecting at the tip, golden tooth shining in the light from the window.

His pace quickened, part of him being driven primal by Frisk’s wanton moans.  They couldn’t keep silent any longer, each powerful thrust drawing out a whine, building them towards their next release.  Sans threw his head back, so tight and wet and his.  All his.  Forever.  Harder and faster, an inhuman amount of force and speed.  Frisk shrieked, they swore he had gone a little deeper as he adjusted his hips.  He hunted for the spot that would make them melt.  Slightly downwards?  No change.  Slightly upwards?  Frisk screamed his name until their throat was hoarse.  They hit their third and perhaps their fourth in quick succession.  Hips and womanhood beginning to ache pleasantly.

The clank of metal against bone, the jingle of his chain.  At this speed the fabric of his hoodie did nothing to silence it.  Frisk’s orgasm count on his mind as he came close to his own.  They had never done this many before.  Frisk never used to have the stamina.  He leaned forward, latching onto his love in an animalistic way.  Hips still slamming into them with brutal speed, so close.  He was so close.  Tongue sliding across their shoulder again, teeth separating.  Clamping down on their soft flesh, deeper this time.  Drawing more blood, enough to fill his mouth.  He almost always bit when he finished and this was no exception, groaning into their skin as he emptied his magic into them.  Nearly searing seed filling them to capacity, flooding passed his cock and down their thighs, so thick and hot.  Shallow and short thrusts as he rode it out.  Frisk might have came again, Sans’ mind too hazy to tell.  Finally he was able to realize more of his sexual potential.

The magic faded, wound cleaned.  He held Frisk close, playing with their strands of auburn hair.  They had fallen almost immediately asleep.

They would definitely be asleep for a while.


End file.
